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I run to the closet and climb into the crammed space that I hope will be enough to shelter me from my father’s wrath. Be it in the form of a Wraith or his personal guard.
The panel refuses to slide back in place, caught on something over the rail, and I wonder for a second what Bonar will do if he sees me. Will he let me slip from Rev’s reach? Or will the duty to the empire overpower his newfound loyalty to the rebellion?
I’m not willing to take a gamble on the answer to that question.
“Please,” I murmur, tugging on the panel again.
With a squeak of metal, the panel finally slides in place just as the door to the room flies open.
I crouch down and listen intently to the sound of Bonar’s boots going in circles around the room, drawing ever so close to the closet.
A shout from downstairs startles me, making my heart lurch in my chest.
“Anything?”
“No.” Bonar’s voice comes much closer than I’ve expected, and I would have cried out if my throat wasn’t so dry.
As his steps draw further away from the closet, I finally allow myself a shaky breath. I can feel the revolvers sliding down my leg, and I catch the first one, and the second one. The third one stays lodged between the wall and my knee. With a loud clank echoing in a sudden silence, the fourth one drops on the stones below my feet.
The sound of boots falling on the stone floor fills the room as Bonar takes the last two steps back toward the closet. He throws open the doors and light filters through a sliver between the panels.
I lean back, putting as much distance between us as the narrow space will allow. His gloved fingers glide over the panel, and I close my eyes, preparing for the inevitable. The darkness swirls ahead, reaching out in a spreading cloud. Not even metal can stop it as it slithers toward me, inches from licking my skin.
“For someone so eager to leave, you take your time,” Rev’s voice echoes from below.
I know Bonar has dropped his hand as the darkness recedes, but I don’t dare to move. Not when the door to the room closes. Nor when the house settles into a stunned silence.
Another pair of heavy footsteps filters through the panel, and my heart might just break out of my chest.
Maybe Bonar told Rev what he felt behind the closet. Or maybe Rev is smart enough not to believe anyone. One thing I do know, I won’t let them put me on the next train back to the palace if either of them discovers my hiding place.
As the footsteps draw closer, I pick up one of the guns in my shaking hands.
I am not going back.
No matter that I’ve never managed to land a bullet on any target, I cock the hammer as the door to the cupboard opens. Even if I miss, whoever comes will be close enough to get stunned by the explosion of powder.
As fingers brush the metal panel, I level the revolver to where I suppose the intruder is. My fingers strain from tension as seconds flow by, but I don’t lower the gun.
I AM NOT GOING BACK.
As the panel slides away, I close my eyes and pull the trigger.
36
I’ve shot a gun before. Yet this time is different. Instead of a loud bang, only a silent click comes out of the revolver.
“Sands,” Valdus mutters. “Good thing I don’t keep them loaded.”
He pries the revolver out of my aching fingers and pulls me into his arms. As the rest of the guns clutter on the floor, a tremble settles in my limbs.
“I’m so sorry,” I choke out between unrelenting sobs.
“You didn’t know it was me,” Valdus murmurs in my ear.
He lowers me into his bed and pulls away, but I clutch his neck, unable to let go of the comfort of his arms. He settles next to me and lets me cry for a long while, never stopping the flow of words of comfort.
It’s only when the first light sets the horizon ablaze that my tears finally stop. My head feels filled with cotton, my eyes rasp with blades each time I blink, and my face must be splotched with redness, but Valdus only pulls the bangs away from my face when I finally look up at him. His own eyelashes are wet. His loss, a sharper pain than mine.
